Complex
by Nitroid
Summary: Stark acknowledges the fact that he has a Lilinette complex, and decides to let her know. Stark/Lilinette fluff.


**I was playing Dragon Age Two at four am when suddenly my bathroom shower turned on by itself… My heart started thumping against my ribcage, all the ghost stories and horror scenes reeling through my mind – a tiny part of me was thinking 'I've got to activate my bankai!' – then I steeled myself up and pushed open my bathroom door, trying to erase all the creepy stories in my brain…**

**Heh. It was my dog, trying to reach for my ducky sponge on the bathroom rack. I guess she managed to flick the tap on while jumping. **

**So…thanks for making me have a 10 second heart attack, dog. No cookies for you. Haha. No really, I'm just a scaredy cat. A big one. D: **

.

Everything was in slow motion, like a video on playback right before his eyes. A wave of mixed emotions spiked through him, and settled deep in his heart like a vast mound of solid stone. He wasn't afraid of anyone trying to attack him. No, his fear was dug deeper than that. He wanted them around, even if it was for a short amount of time; someone to talk to, someone to keep him company. All of the others – those lesser Hollow beings, even the desert animals – they died after being around him for too long. Their souls, however small, would disintegrate and slowly vanish into thin air.

It was agonizing.

He had wanted someone who would stay with him without crumbling down into little fragments for so long. He wouldn't have minded even if that someone threw insults at him each day, or said words that hurt him like little knives piercing his insides. As long as there was someone to continue this journey with him, he saw absolutely nothing wrong with that. He was going crazy, traveling across the immense desert with nothing and no one to talk to. When he did manage to approach other Adjuchas in the hopes of becoming possible friends, he could feel a niggling sensation in his gut that they were dying from the pressure of his spirit particles. It had always been like that, for as long as he could remember. It didn't matter how long they tried to resist; they would always die in the end. Still, he couldn't stop himself from searching for comrades. It was better than nothing. If he was left alone in the large expanse of desert, he was sure he would lose his will and transform into a mindless Hollow.

He didn't want that, of course. He refused to live a senseless, gratuitous life as a being that consumed the souls of other weaker beings. Those things might be the dreams of others, but certainly not his. He was above all of them with his growing sense of individualism. It had been an incredibly long time since he managed to find a group of Hollows that were willing to become his allies. The days in Hueco Mundo passed quickly, and he had no proper sense of time. He just knew that his new group of friends were all dropping to their knees in the sand before him, mouths open in silent screams as their souls were sucked into his own.

And then something emerged from his body, blowing up a small cloud of sand as it took shape before his very eyes. The dust cloud blew away the remainder of his previous friends' bodies; mere shells now that their souls had been eaten. He had squinted into the obscure whirlwind, trying to make out what it was. When it died down, he finally saw what was before him.

A young girl, with a white bone mask just like his own, only hers had two horns rising up from the sides of her head. One of the horns was broken. She had opened her eyes and gazed up at him in awe, while he had stared down at her in a combination of nervousness and curiosity. Part of him had been afraid that she would break down and fall to pieces, like all the other Hollows had done. Another part of him had a thin sliver of hope that she would not.

"Who are you?" Her voice was soft, feminine and immature.

She was obviously young, judging by her adolescent form, and the innocence portrayed in her wide eyes only proved that more. But he didn't care. The sliver of hope was growing into a wild creature deep inside him.

"I'm Stark." He replied, unable to take his eyes off her.

She was small and naked aside from the helmet-like bone mask on her head. The fact that she didn't bother to cover herself up in his presence established her ingenuousness further.

"Then what does that make me?" She asked again, looking down at her hands as if seeing them for the first time.

"You're Lilinette." He answered, much to his own surprise.

A part of him just knew. He couldn't describe it; the crowd of emotions boiling up inside him was overwhelming. He had spoken her name out of his own accord.

"Lilinette," she had repeated, lifting her head to look up at him once more. "I'm Lilinette."

In the white moonlight, Stark felt a twinge of sentiment spike through him. He hadn't been sure what it was back then. Still, he had pulled off part of his ragged cloak and wrapped it around her body. She had allowed him to, sitting in the sand and watching him with a small smile. All the fear of having her crumble into nothing before his eyes vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Something inside him was telling him he didn't need to be afraid of solitude any longer.

"We'll be together from now on, you and me."

He never regretted saying that. The happy, accepting smile she had awarded him with was enough to chase the rest of his doubts away.

.

"Stark!"

Lilinette's familiar petulant voice sounded very close. He didn't want to open his eyes, however. The warm desert sun was comforting from his position on a big slab of white rock.

"What're you thinking of? Don't go sleeping all day and leaving me alone." Lilinette murmured, dropping down from a precipice of rock above him.

She landed on her little white boots, planting her feet neatly on the rock. Happily skipping over, she knelt down beside Stark and lowered herself onto his chest. Stark opened his eyes, feeling his surge of incommodious emotions ebb away. Lilinette was here, lying on his chest. She was safe. He exhaled, lifting a gloved hand to caress her soft green hair, sliding the other around her waist to lift the rest of her body onto his own.

"Answer me, Stark," she mumbled, leaning into his touch. "I could feel your reiatsu from inside the main building. Were you dreaming? Was it a bad dream?"

"It was a memory," Stark replied softly, lifting his head to drop a kiss on Lilinette's forehead. He smiled when she cuddled closer, tracing little patterns with one finger on his toned chest.

"A bad memory?" She asked, lifting her chin to peek up at him.

"Partly." He answered, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But it was also a good memory, in a way. The last part of it, at least."

"Oh," Lilinette said. Her innocent light pink eyes locked gazes with his steel grey ones. "What was it about?"

Stark considered telling her the whole story, then decided against it. It was better if she knew less. "It was about you, Lilinette."

A frown marred her childish features, her small mouth shaping into a pout. "So … if the first part was a terrible memory, then you think I'm bad?"

"I never said that." Running his fingers through her hair, Stark hugged her tighter, as if reassuring her of his answer. "You know I'd never think about you like that."

She didn't reply, but the trust reflected in her eyes was answer enough.

"It was about the first time we met." At least, it wouldn't hurt to tell her some of his memory. "I was on the brink of breaking down when you emerged from my body."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you about to break down? What happens when you break down? Do you become unusable?"

Despite her inquisitive barrage of questions, Stark smiled. Lilinette was filled with childlike naivety; he felt incredibly protective of her.

"Who told you you'd become unusable?" he countered, tugging on the fingertips of his gloves with one hand. He had an urge to run his fingers through her hair, gloveless this time.

"Szayel did. He gave me candy after that." Lilinette explained, drawing little hearts into the sand at Stark's shoulder. "He said I'm not allowed to touch anything in his laboratory."

Narrowing his eyes, Stark tilted her chin up so she was facing him again. "And you shouldn't. His concoctions are dangerous. I don't want you going in there without me, you hear?"

She nodded obediently, lips pressed tight as she regarded him with an unreadable expression. Stark softened somewhat; he hadn't meant to scare her. Using his thumb to gently rub her lips, he smiled at the softness of her skin.

"Szayel is wrong. You don't become unusable. You become mindless and empty."

"Like a Hollow being?" Lilinette levered herself upwards by a few inches, touching noses with Stark.

"Exactly," the Primera Espada breathed, caressing his other half's face affectionately. "You'll feel an unanimous itch to eat lesser weaklings, and if you meet other Hollow of your level, you'd want to fight them to get stronger."

"Oh, just like what Grimmjow did when he was an Adjuchas?" Lilinette tilted her head curiously, touching his hand lightly with her small one.

Stark intertwined their fingers together, bring her hand to his lips for a chaste kiss. "Yes. Did he tell you about that?"

Lilinette shut her eyes and leaned her forehead against his. "Yeah, you were sleeping, and I was bored. He was taking a nap too, so I went to disturb him."

A tiny arrow of jealousy shot through him. Had he not been asleep, she would not have gone to talk to Grimmjow. The Sexta Espada was unpredictable, and if he had laid a hand on her … no, he wouldn't bring himself to judge others so quickly. If Grimmjow wanted to hurt her, Stark would feel the threat instantly and arrive at the scene to prevent things from going awry.

Still. He couldn't deny his resentment. Stark chose not to reply with words, instead placing his free hand on the back of Lilinette's neck and bringing her closer. She stiffened involuntarily. Their lips met, and Lilinette opened her mouth a fraction to release a soft gasp. The opening was enough for Stark to slide his tongue in, earning another gasp from his other half.

"Mmph," Lilinette's words were muffled as she tightened her grip on Stark's hand. Their tongues battled for dominance, but the struggle was short. Lilinette quickly surrendered, allowing her body to relax against his.

When Stark finally broke the kiss, he opened his eyes to look at her. Her rosebud lips were parted slightly, shining with both their saliva. Her eyes were still shut and a deep blush tinted her cheeks, much to Stark's amusement. She looked like how a juvenile teen would after her first kiss with her crush.

"You're so adorable."

She blinked and turned away, sliding her hand out of his. Stark caught her fingers gently but firmly, curling his other arm around her waist to stop her from running away.

"Look at me."

Stubbornly facing to the side, Lilinette bit her bottom lip nervously. Stark was so gentle all of a sudden. A dozen choruses of questions whirled through her mind. Strangely though, she had kissed him back of her own consensus.

"Lilinette, look at me."

Slowly turning her head toward him, she averted her gaze, as if finding the white desert sand very interesting.

"I just realized what that feeling is." Stark murmured, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I'll tell you if you really look at me."

He knew she couldn't resist not finding out, and she knew that he knew about that. Chewing nervously on her bottom lip, she blinked down at him, trying to read the message in his eyes. He smiled at her, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"What is it?" she asked softly, fiddling with the collar of his white Espada robes. "What are you talking about?"

In reply, Stark pulled her down for another loving kiss.

.

**So, this is my first try at Stark/Lilinette fluff. I think it's incredibly cheesy, but I'm too tired to add extra bits. It's almost 5am here. There just weren't enough stories with this pairing around. Don't shoot me, please. Instead, I'd like if you could review and tell me what you think! :) **


End file.
